A Lesson in Comfort
by DracoMaleficium
Summary: Mai has news.


**A/N**: A short drabble from a meme on my tumblr (dracze); someone asked for "Maiko + Family". Contains discussions of pregnancy.

* * *

Zuko was terrified.

He was trying to hide it. But he was. Mai could tell, mostly because Zuko was crap at hiding anything - especially from her.

"You know," she muttered, sitting down next to him on the windowsill, "that's not _quite_ the reaction I was hoping for."

"I'm sorry," he said so fast that it sounded more like a learned instinct than a proper apology. "It's just - wow. Fuck. I need some time."

Mai forced herself to shrug. "You have about 8 months."

This only made things worse, as she vaguely suspected it would. She watched as Zuko groaned and buried his face in his hands, and refrained from slapping him - just barely.

It wasn't as if _she_ was thrilled by the prospect, and having the reality of it driven home wasn't any better for her than it was for him.

At least _he_ wasn't the one who would have to carry the damn - thing - and then squeeze it out.

"I could do with a bit more support right now," she whispered. And hated herself a little for how dry it sounded, but it wasn't as if she could help it.

Mai was pretty damned terrified, too, but unlike Zuko, she was crap at _not_ hiding it. She supposed she'd have to thank her parents and Azula for that.

It also put her in a position of the comfort-bringer instead of the comfortee, which, given the situation, was more than a little unfair. This time, she wasn't about to put up with it.

"I know, I know, it's just - I - " Zuko was making a mess of his hair - well, more of a mess than it usually was when he wasn't wearing the crown - and looking completely, utterly lost.

Some small part of Mai sympathized. The rest of her stomped her foot, hard.

"Stop that, Zuko," she ordered. "You're not the victim here."

If only he'd reach out to hold her, touch her - _anything_. But he was too busy messing up his hair helplessly to even think about that, and now he was looking up at her, and that forlorn expression hurt her in ways she wasn't ready to acknowledge.

"I have no idea how to be a father," he whispered. "You know what my family is like, Mai, you know how messed up we are, how can I even -"

Oh.

Well, it wasn't as if Mai didn't suspect that things would take this turn, and she understood. Or she tried to, as much as she could, even if sometimes it felt that Zuko was full of dark places that she would never be able to peek into - which was all right, because she had hers, too.

She could be his shoulder to cry on when he needed one. But this time, _she_ needed _him_, and was not going to put up with a self-pity party when she was the one who needed support.

"Zuko," she said, her words sharp as a knife-point. "Zuko, stop that. You've got your uncle. You've got Aang and that lot. You've seen how Hakoda is with his children. You do have people to look up to, so just - don't. I need you now, I need you to get through this, and if you can't support me, tell me right now and I'll - I'll go to people who can."

She looked away, then, because waiting for his reaction and watching it transform his face was more than she could bear right now. There was a tightness in her chest, a tightness that had been growing stronger and harder to ignore the more time she spent with Zuko, and it was gnawing at her right now, throbbing right under her skin and making her sick.

Or maybe it was the other thing that was making her sick. Either way, she had to look away.

The bedroom was silent. Silent. Still silent. But just as she started contemplating screaming, if only to bring the damned thing crushing down around them, Zuko finally found his voice again.

"I'm sorry, Mai." There was a warm, strong hand reaching out for hers, and she let it, letting out a long, deep breath. "You're right, this isn't about me. Of course I'll support you."

Only then did she allow herself to look up again. And nearly sighed with relief, because there was that stupid, wonderful determination in Zuko's face now, the one that drove him all those years, that put the crown on his head, that led him through the restoration and the unrests and everything else, and suddenly, Mai thought that maybe things could, after all, be all right.

"We already have a family," he whispered, opening his arms for her.

Finally.

"We do," she agreed, burying her face in his warm, warm chest. "You idiot."

"We'll just make it bigger, yeah?"

"Yeah."

She breathed out, then in again, and let the smell of Zuko close in around her just as his arms did.

She was still afraid, and so was he. Maybe they would never stop being afraid.

But maybe it would be all right, even so.


End file.
